


to face unafraid

by poiregourmande



Category: Buzzfeed Tasty: Eating Your Feed (Web Series), Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 13:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiregourmande/pseuds/poiregourmande
Summary: two west coast girls in montreal, sunrise and a snowman





	to face unafraid

**Author's Note:**

> this is the custom reward for genuine-wheeze, who won New Ship November with 7 fills! he asked for "something a little seasonal for Annie/Rie like ice skating or building a snowman"

Everyone told them Montreal in winter would be a shock, and to dress warmly – no, even warmlier than that.   
  
But when Annie ventures out of the hotel in the early morning for a short walk before their shoot, there’s no shock. Just awe at the literal winter wonderland spreading before her. She pulls her hood up and crosses the street to the park in front of the hotel.   
  
It snowed all night and all around her are virgin expanses of thick white blankets. She almost feels guilty for disturbing the peaceful tableau with her footprints. She bends down to gather a fistful of snow in her mittened hands, and just as she’d hoped – the snow is sticky enough to be balled up.   
  
She throws the packed snowball at a tree, deploring her terrible aim as it falls halfway to its goal with a faint splat. Her fingers prickle at the cold when she pulls her mitten off to shoot a quick text: _Park_ and a snowman emoji. She keeps the hotel entrance in view as she waits, hoping Rie will be alone.   
  
Annie loves the boys, she really does, but when they have a bunch of shoots lined up in a row like this, she sometimes needs a break.   
  
Not from Rie, though. She could spend all her time with Rie and it still wouldn’t be enough.   
  
Okay, maybe she’s got a bit of a crush. But how could she not? It’s _Rie_. Sweet, badass, gorgeous, talented Rie.   
  
The hotel’s front doors open to let her out, elegant even bundled up in her winter clothes – in contrast, Annie feels like a potato, except less graceful. She holds her breath, waiting to see if the boys are following. She hopes Rie doesn’t hear the relieved sigh coming out of her mouth when she sees no one else is coming.   
  
Annie waves her over, even though she's hard to miss – alone in black clothes in a deserted snow-covered landscape. Rie does this little skip-jog thing across the street and Annie’s heart flutters at the way she's hurrying to meet her.   
  
“Hi,” Annie says, breathless, when Rie joins her.   
  
“Morning!” Rie’s smile is gorgeous in the coral light of the sunrise hitting the snow. “Okay, so disclaimer: I’ve never made a snowman before.”  
  
She looks bashful at the admission, and it tugs at Annie’s heartstrings. She’s rarely in situations where she knows more than Rie, and the feeling is sort of heady.   
  
“Don’t worry,” she says, “I’ll coach you through it.”  
  
They start with the biggest ball for the base and Rie keeps looking up at Annie for validation. “Big enough?” she asks, when the ball is barely bigger than her head.   
  
“Yeah, if you wanna make a snow gnome,” Annie deadpans.   
  
“We could make Snow Snow White and the Seven Snow Dwarves!”  
  
“Let’s start with making just one regular snow person, okay?” Annie replies fondly.   
  
Rie crouches down to pack more snow on the ball, and Annie kneels next to her. They roll and pack, roll and pack. The ball is almost big enough when Annie gives it one last push.  
  
It all happens too fast – before they know it, Rie slips and falls on her back and Annie tumbles on top of her, limbs tangled and hood full of snow. Giggles gain them, bright and joyful sound resounding through the quiet morning.   
  
Ries cheeks are pink from the cold. Snowflakes are clinging to her eyelashes like diamonds to a queen. Annie knows this because their faces are two inches apart, tops. Laughter dies in her throat, chest heaving against Rie’s through layers and layers of clothing.   
  
Screw it.   
  
Annie breaches these two inches and brings their lips together. It’s like the warm glow of the sunrise decided to nest inside her chest. She forgets the cold, forgets the snow slowly melting down her neck. The only thing that matters is Rie kissing her back, cradling her head with a gloved hand, tangling their ankles together.   
  
“So much for that snowman,” Annie mumbles into the kiss.   
  
“Eh, let’s say it’s six billion snowpeople. It’s a snow planet.” Rie's got that grin on her face she gets when she's proud of her jokes, and it's so endearingly dorky Annie has to kiss her again.  
  
“Think we got time to warm up and dry before the shoot?” Annie asks between nips across Rie's jaw.  
  
“Not if you keep kissing me.”  
  
“So that’s a no.”


End file.
